


Four Seasons, Four Conversations

by futuresoon



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:39:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futuresoon/pseuds/futuresoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misuzu has four conversations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Seasons, Four Conversations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [troubleforhire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleforhire/gifts).



**Fall**

Misuzu has not had cause to interfere with the human world in some time.

The last time, in fact, was some decades ago, with a certain girl--but that is not the point.

The point is that he had no particular concern with the affairs of humans. The certain girl did not seem to be in the area any more, and so why bother with the others? He was never the sort of youkai to sate his hunger on passers-by, even humans, and no humans ever attempted to interact with him. So Misuzu thought little about them. To him, they were of no consequence.

But that has changed, and Misuzu is not sure if that is for the better or for the worse.

The change is still new. Natsume has not contacted him since their first meeting. Nevertheless, Misuzu finds himself seeking out any news about his new--friend, he supposes. Natsume would likely term them as friends. Misuzu does not know what to think of that, yet.

The only news he finds is that Natsume still returns names, despite the danger. In truth, the danger comes to him even when his attackers have not heard of the Book; he is a lodestone for trouble. Misuzu sometimes feels a tang of concern. But Natsume has inherited his grandmother’s luck, it seems, and moreover, another--friend. 

Madara used to pride himself on his lack of attachment to others. The youkai world goes through very little change, but perhaps Natsume does not know that.

Misuzu enjoys a cup of sake as much as any other youkai. Fortunately, so does Madara.

The forest grows chilly in autumn months. Its floor is already blanketed in wet, flattened leaves, orange and yellow and mostly brown, really. It’s a bit too late in the season for autumn’s traditional beauty. Still, there have been worse backdrops for a friendly drink.

“He’s trying to cause me problems, I know he is,” Madara grumbles into his cup. “Not just with the names, which is _plenty_ trouble on its own, let me tell you, but he’s so stingy with that woman’s food. With all I do for him, you’d think I deserve an extra shrimp or three, but no, never.”

Misuzu declines to ask what the “extra” is on top of in the first place. The autumn chill has left his energy somewhat dulled; he doesn’t feel like arguing. “That woman?” he asks instead. “The mother he lives with?”

“Touko-san, yes, she makes such wonderful food and sometimes _she_ gives me extra. Natsume could learn a thing or two from her.” Madara swallows the rest of his cup and pours himself a new one, only spilling a little in the process.

“She is good to him, then?” Misuzu asks.

“Yes, yes, she’s always very kind and not bad for a human but my _point_ is that Natsume never gives me the respect I deserve. I should just eat him. I should. Where’s the other bottle?”

Madara falls over in his attempt to twist around to find it. Misuzu makes no comment.

He knows, on some vague level, that humans are often cruel. In his brief association with Reiko, he saw others treat her only with contempt. He wonders if Natsume has the same trouble.

But if the man and woman Natsume lives with are kind to him, perhaps that is not so much of a problem. Misuzu relaxes a little, inside, and does not quite know why.

Madara locates the other bottle with a cry of triumph. The autumn chill doesn’t seem so bad, now.

\---

**Winter**

Sake warms him even more in the sharp cold that comes with snowfall. This time, his drinking companion is less rowdy, or at least less obvious about it.

Hinoe sips at her cup. “You’re still looking for news about him, aren’t you?” she asks. The colors of her kimono stand out against the snowy background of the forest around them.

“Perhaps,” Misuzu replies. He doesn’t go around asking anyone. Nonetheless, his interest remains.

“That boy is always in danger,” Hinoe says with a short, wry laugh. “Curses and broken seals and a never-ending list of troublemakers and who knows what else. I might not mind if he needed more curses broken. Those, I can oversee myself.”

“You wish to help him, then,” Misuzu says, and it is never a question, not with Natsume.

Hinoe _hmph_ s. “Only in memory of Reiko, that’s all,” she says. “I don’t think she’d care for him much. He’s far too kind for her. But she might prefer him safe.”

“I don’t remember much of Reiko, but I don’t remember her being cruel,” Misuzu says. Behind them, a soft _thump_ of snow falling from branches.

“Yes, well,” Hinoe says, and takes another sip. She doesn’t finish her sentence.

“In any case,” she says, after a pause, “he isn’t her. Nothing can be done about that.”

“It’s no fault of his,” Misuzu says. “He never knew her. He might never have known about her at all, if he didn’t come here.”

Hinoe snorts. “By all rights he should have,” she says. “Humans move around so much these days, they never take root the way they used to. The way we do. If Reiko had stayed here, his parents might have stayed here, and he might have learned.”

“Do you wonder what he might be like if Reiko hadn’t died?” Misuzu asks. The sake has loosened his tongue, perhaps.

Hinoe is silent for a moment. Eventually, she says, “Reiko with a little grandchild would have been a sight to see. Fending off troublemakers with that bat of hers. If she was a terror with only herself to look after, I can’t imagine what she’d be like with him.”

“Then you admit he’s worth caring for,” Misuzu says.

Hinoe snorts, tips back the rest of her cup, and swallows in a not particularly ladylike fashion. “Only for Reiko’s sake, as I said,” she says. 

They both lapse into silence. The forest, stilled by its blanket of snow, makes no sounds of its own.

After a time, Hinoe says, “He seems to be doing well. I saw him walking with other humans his age the other day. I don’t think they trouble him the way humans troubled Reiko.”

Misuzu sips from his cup. Hinoe knew Reiko better than anyone, or at least better than any youkai. If she thinks all is well, there is not much reason to worry.

\---

**Spring**

Green returns to the forest and the fields. Lately, Misuzu has found himself in the latter more than the former; there are not many humans in the forest, and, well, at this point he cannot deny his increased interest in them. These are the people Natsume sees every day, even if only in passing. What is the world like to someone who lives such a divided life? 

None of the humans Misuzu sees often seem particularly enthralling. Their lives are simple, or at least, they are compared to Natsume’s. In the fields they talk about work, which Misuzu can respect; growing things is a skill most youkai never care to consider. These humans create and culture life. But watching them do it becomes boring, after a while, as he observes their routines over and over again.

The ones Natsume actually talks to are far more interesting, if only for the challenge of figuring out why Natsume talks to them so much to begin with.

Those two young men--Kitamato and Nishimura, he thinks? They are certainly very friendly and open. And utterly unrelated to the world of youkai. They laugh and talk with greater abandon than any sober youkai Misuzu has ever met. About seemingly pointless things; schoolwork and games and, sometimes, romance, which is not pointless, but they never seem to actually accomplish any. 

It is one sunny day in the fields, watching the two boys walk along the nearby road, when Misuzu finds himself being spoken to.

“I don’t know what you are,” says a cautious voice from behind, “but you’ve been watching them for weeks. If you were dangerous, I think you would have done something by now. So what are you?”

Misuzu turns around to see two of Natsume’s other friends. The dark-haired boy who has some connection to youkai--Tanuma? And the light-haired girl who somehow looks just a little familiar--Taki? They’re staring at his feet. It would seem they can’t see him well enough to know where his face is.

Can they hear him at all? “I am Misuzu,” says Misuzu, and waits for a response. It doesn’t come. He sighs. The exhale through his nostrils hits them, and they stagger back. It would almost be amusing, but Misuzu thinks Natsume would not like him to torment his friends.

Taki stands up straight and as tall as she can muster. She raises a long stick. “There’s a clearing not too far from here,” she says. “I can make a circle that will let us see you. We just want to talk. We’ll go there now.”

She and Tanuma bow and leave, presumably for the clearing. After a moment, Misuzu rises up to follow them. He doubts they have any ill intentions, not if they’re friends of Natsume.

The clearing is not large, but it’s big enough for all of them to fit. Misuzu watches from the edge of the forest to see Taki draw her circle in the dirt. It covers nearly the entire clearing. Do they know his size? 

“It’s done,” Taki says, glancing around her. He steps inside.

Instantly, their eyes widen. Perhaps they didn’t.

“I am Misuzu,” repeats Misuzu. “If you couldn’t see me, how did you know I was there?”

“You cast a large shadow,” Tanuma says. They both look afraid, but not enough to run, he thinks.

“I’m Taki,” says Taki, “and this is Tanuma. We’re friends of Natsume’s. Tanuma’s seen your shadow nearly every time we walk that road. Why are you watching Natsume?”

“I have no wish to harm him or any of the others around him, if that is your worry,” Misuzu says. “Natsume-dono considers us friends. I merely want to see what his other friends are like. Why is he missing today?” he asks. Natsume was not with the other boys. It was a point of some concern.

“He’s got a cold,” Tanuma says. “Not from anything youkai-related, we don’t think. Just a cold. That’s why we’re talking to you right now--we don’t want to worry him by confronting you when he’s there.”

“I see,” Misuzu says. “There is no need for concern, but I find it appropriate. It is good for his human friends to watch over him as well.”

Taki frowns. “He never tells us anything,” she says. “We just get worried. We’re on our way to see him, actually.”

“We just need to make sure of something first,” Tanuma says. “The youkai around here--what do they think about him?”

The two humans seem at once very small and very strong. Their fear is loud enough to feel, but they stand still, their voices do not quaver. For all they know, they might be in grave danger, yet they remain. For his sake.

It is not just the youkai who find themselves caught up in him, it seems.

“Some want to attack him,” Misuzu says. “Some are fascinated by him. Some are his friends. But the bad outweighs the good, I fear; there are more in the first category than the others.”

They look uneasy. Nevertheless, they stand.

“Still, he has survived this far,” Misuzu continues. “Some of his friends are very capable. And he himself, I’m sure you know, is durable indeed.”

They smile slightly. How much have they truly seen, Misuzu wonders? More than he has, probably. Yet not enough. For Natsume’s friends, never enough.

“Overall, I do not worry overmuch about his safety,” Misuzu finishes.

Relief blossoms on their faces. A touch of emotion flutters in Misuzu’s heart; it is good, so good, for Natsume to have friends who care for him so. 

A thought that has stuck in the back of his mind since the start of the conversation comes forth. “Taki-dono, I feel as if I have seen your face before,” Misuzu says. “Some time ago. Do you, too, have a grandmother of note?”

The relief on Taki’s face is replaced with surprise. “My grandfather studied youkai,” she says. “Once, my whole family did--but that was a long time ago. He was the last one. Before me, anyway. Did you see him? Did he ever try to speak to you?”

“I don’t think he knew I was there,” Misuzu says. “But he came to the forest sometimes when he was young. I think he hoped we were there. But nobody ever spoke to him.”

Taki smiles sadly. “That sounds about right,” she says. 

They talk some more, about her grandfather, about Natsume, about the world of youkai and the world of humans. Eventually, they apologize and say they have to leave; they don’t want Natsume to worry about them. Misuzu can see the unbending strength in their hearts. These two, at least, Misuzu knows why Natsume has befriended them.

The air and land are filled with new life. It is only fitting for Natsume to have his own share of the season’s warmth.

\---

**Summer**

Heat drags down the air. Time itself seems to falter in the oppressive temperature, slowing the long hours before a slightly cooler nighttime. Only slightly, though. The youkai of the forest bring out paper fans and complain mightily. Just like every year.

Misuzu wants only to sleep. An afternoon doze--or a daily one--or perhaps a week--would at least get his mind off it. But the sound of rowdy drinking keeps him awake. He considers eating a few of the worst offenders. That might interrupt them. Might.

He’s weighing the options when cries of “Natsume-dono!” rise up from the merrymakers. He lifts his head to look over, and yes, there is Natsume, winding his way through the crowds and apologizing as he does so. Five separate youkai offer him a drink; he declines all of them. Instead, he ends up in front of Misuzu.

“Greetings, Natsume-dono,” Misuzu says. Perhaps staying awake has its bonuses. “Are you here to join the festivities?” He doesn’t know quite what the festivities are _for,_ but then, youkai rarely need excuses to drink.

Natsume shakes his head. “No, I think I’ll leave them to their fun. They never seem to understand that I don’t drink, anyway.”

“Then what are you here for?” Misuzu asks. “You could have summoned me, if you wished to see me.”

“I heard you were here,” Natsume says. “It seemed easier to walk. As for why I’m here--well, I heard you’ve been asking about me, too.” He gives a wry smile.

Ah. “Merely for curiosity’s sake,” Misuzu says. “It seemed prudent to know more about my new master.”

“I’m not your _master--_ my point is, you could have asked _me,”_ Natsume says.

Misuzu shrugs. On other days it might have been elegant; today, in the thick heat, it’s just sort of half-hearted. “We don’t always answer truthfully when asked questions about ourselves,” he said. “Your friends are more open than you would be.”

Natsume settles down onto the grass. “All right, then,” he says. “What have _you_ been up to?”

Misuzu blinks.

“I don’t know very much about you,” Natsume says. “It’s only fair. Tell me something about yourself.”

No one has asked Misuzu about himself for a long, long time. Youkai don’t share much. But--as is so abundantly clear--Natsume is not a youkai.

“I do not live the same way you do,” Misuzu says. “I am not a solitary creature, but I have never had a family, or any particularly lasting friendships. Very few dare challenge me. In the absence of any duties, I spend much of my time watching others. Humans, of late.”

“Did you ever watch Reiko?” Natsume asks. 

“A few times,” Misuzu replies. More than a few? The heat makes things hard to remember. “I don’t think she cared for it. She never summoned me.”

“Did you like her?” Natsume asks. “I mean--you wanted your name to stay in the Book. Most of the others don’t. I thought maybe you felt like you owed her.”

Misuzu takes a moment to think. Reiko has always been a complicated subject. Hearing of her death had disquieted him; it didn’t seem right for something as interesting as her to disappear so soon without notice. “I am not bitter towards her,” he says eventually. “You are not her, I know, but when I met you, you helped my servant, and I think she might have liked that. In any case, I requested my name remain in the Book because of your actions, not hers.”

“Oh.” Natsume doesn’t seem to know what to say to that.

“I’ve been around for quite some time,” Misuzu says, if only to fill the silence. “I have no need to defend territory, and there are not many things to fill my days. You are interesting. That’s all there is to it.”

Natsume smiles. “Well, good to know,” he says. “You’re not exactly boring yourself.”

Misuzu does not remember how long he has existed. Long, long indeed, he thinks. He has seen villages rise up and crumble, turn to towns, turn to cities. Humans and youkai alike scurry around, some brief, some not. The seasons pass over and over and over.

These past few seasons, however, have been different.

Reiko did not last for many. But Misuzu wishes these will last longer.

Natsume Takashi asks him about himself. He answers.

The summer heat is barely noticeable.


End file.
